Even I have limits

I hit my limit last night in the Fecal Wars of 2010. I went to bed as normal last night while PC frantically adjusted his presentation that he's flying out to Dream State to give today. As is typical when he has these sorts of deadlines, he procrastinates until late into the night and comes to bed at hours that aren't even considered last night anymore.

So, around 2am when I feel the bed movement that suggests he's finally given in to his sleepiness, I hear "Oh shit. There's cat poop in the bed."

Yes, Mischievous Kitty thought it would be a good idea to leave us gifts as I slept.

So not pleased. At 2:15 am, I groggily find new sheets as PC strips the bed. We put new sheets on the bed, and try to sleep. I, of course, fume and plan my revenge solution to the ongoing war.

Today I researched the problem. Potential reasons for the war?

1.  Bitchy Cat may have a urinary problem, which encourages her to pee outside the box
2. Said box might not be clean to their standards (I worry this is the problem, and despite the judgement I'll get, I admit I'm a change the box once a week kind of girl)
3. Mixing the families have caused anxiety and marking tendencies. Might also be a reasonable cause given BC has begun what the experts call 'over grooming' her tail. Most people put one of the animals up for adoption. I'm guessing PC won't give up BC since he's had her for years and she's actually a pretty old cat on top of being bitchy. I'm for sure not giving up MK.

Solution?

1. Bought Feliway. Mixed reviews, but it's worth a try. I got both the spray and the room diffuser. I dream of two kitties that hang out and bathe each other and do not 'inappropriately divest of waste'.
2. Changed litter boxes today.
3. Glared at MK. 
4. Drank several martinis on behalf of Simska's birthday. Doubt it will help with the Fecal War, but I'm less angry.  

Like playing the lottery

Since I threw my hat in the ring, I have to say I've been a little bit excited. Just the thought that I might get a job doing something that is so much closer to what I went to school to do - while maintaining all the positive aspects of my current job (aside from most likely the awesomest boss in the world). At this point, I don't think it even matters if I get the job*, I'm just enjoying basking in the glow of possibilities.

Oh, and the possibility of relocating to Dream State.

Kind of like what I hear playing the lottery is like - the ability to dream about what you'd do with the money if you won is worth the $1 you spent on the ticket.

Except, I spent 9 hours of sick time and $15 in faxing my educational evidence. And, if I won the lottery I'd make more money than at any of the jobs I applied to, and I'd have to work at the job that paid less than winning the lottery...perhaps I should reevaluate this whole job vs lottery thing...

*I can say this safely on this side of hearing they don't want me. If I get a rejection, which is highly probable given the competition for the type of work I'm trying to do, I will probably be depressed for a while.

Fecal wars

Anytime you bring together two families through coupledom, you expect there to be an adjustment period. In our household, we've kind of gotten used to being woken up in the morning with the screams of one cat chasing the other under the bed for the sport of it.

I like to think of it as no worse than if we had real children who fought in the morning while they got dressed for school - but better because I don't have to get up to make eggs and check homework and get them on the bus in time.

However, they have recently taken it up a notch.

First, we have PC's cat. We'll call her Bitchy Cat (BC). Mostly because her meow truly sounds like she's yelling at you even when she's happy. Then we have MK (Mischievous Kitty) who is mine. We also have Happy Dog (HD) who typically stays out of it.

Now each animal has a flaw. Each starts with a P.

BC pees, MK poos, and HD pukes.

It's lovely. But, in the grand scheme of things, they might not grow out of these things like a baby might, but we don't have to worry about them coming home from Prom knocked up. So, I think we got the better deal.

Now, HD pretty much limits the puke to when we've cleaned the floors for company. MK does his little poo game when he's angry with us for not being home or not keeping the litter box clean enough. And, BC lives up to her name and pees out of spite whenever and wherever she wants.

Recently a war started. A fecal war.

It all started because BC likes to lay by the front door, preferably on the front door mat. I think it's so she can bitch at you from one place no matter where you are in the house. When not there, she likes to be under the front door table, about a foot away.

Thinking I'd be nice, I put a cat bed (MK's to be exact) half way between. I mean there's no reason that BC shouldn't have a nice soft bed to lay in while she bitches at us.

However, she must have known it was MK's bed so out of spite, she peed in it. Full on, walked over, and took a squat. A big old 'Fuck You' to MK.

I shook my head and went on about my day. MK, however, plotted his revenge.

Later, I discovered a pile of poo on her favorite door mat.

Which has resulted in more pee, and more poo...and so the cycle continues.

It's fun. This whole mixed family affair. Humans caught in the cross fire of fecal wars.

Three down

I know you know this already, but I'm going to say it anyway.

Applying for jobs is a real pain in the arse. Seriously. I think I've spent easily 15 hours in the last 2 days looking for openings and applying to three of them. Fully 8 hours today (called in sick, oops), and I still have to go find somewhere to fax my damn educational evidence.

I'm exhausted to the point that by the time I got to the fourth application (today is the last day to apply to it), I actually looked for reasons I probably wouldn't get the job so I could have a good reason to not apply. I rationalized that this particular industry is one where they're all like, "Oh, 1 day short of the 1 year experience requirement? Out!"

So yeah. Perhaps I will get a few calls out of this. One is in current city, and two are in dream city.

Current city job would be AMAZING. At least on paper it looks like it.

Course, current job looks like an amazing job on paper too. But, I digress.

One of the dream city jobs took the longest to apply - 5 pages of a word document worth of online responses to their first batch of questions.  By the time I got to the end of the questions, I couldn't remember what the job was for, but I think I answered the questions so well that they'd HAVE to call me. At least I convinced me I was amazing.

I looked back at the job ad, and while I think I sort of know what they'd want me to do, I pretty much am relying on the fact they mentioned my particular field (which isn't mentioned or understood well in this industry) several times.

And last job - well, I think it would be fun and it is in my dream city, but I think the application process was so easy relative to the other two - that I feel a little less excited about it. Don't get me wrong - this is not an urge to get application process designers to increase level of difficulty. In fact quite the opposite.

I wonder if the application process is out of laziness of the reviewers so fewer people actually apply (instead of the research that suggests that applicants the persevere through multiple job hurdles may be more persistent and have higher performance.

Tri-pondering

Driving home yesterday, I began pondering.

And, even as I pondered, I dual tasked by a second level of pondering in which I realized I've been driving to/from work and errands in silence to ponder - sometime about what I will do at work, what I did at work, or whatever random thing - and am kinda enjoying it. But, a third level of pondering being why it is I've become so introspective lately - which I haven't come to a conclusion about.

Anyway, back to the first level.

First level pondering realized I've really begun focusing on becoming healthier and wealthier and perhaps because I am wiser?

From a healthier perspective, I've begun trying some new foods. Partially because - why the hell not? And, partially because I'm trying to widen my repertoire of foods. And, partially because I'm intrigued by the idea that different colored foods offer different types of nutrition.

So, a couple weeks back now I tried some eggplant. I think it's a fun shape and a fun color. Even as I dropped it into my cart I had no idea what I was going to do with it. PC, quizzed me on it remarking he's not a fan of it unless it's fried - which we can't really do with the whole WW thing. I could see the hope cross his face as it dropped into the cart that he wasn't home when I decided to make it so he didn't have to endure whatever concoction I made up.

He wasn't. And, despite the funness of a new ingredient - can't say I was overwhelmed with it. Which is unfortunate. May or may not try it again.

The second healthy food I tried out more recently was quinoa. I'd bought a bag probably a year ago and then quickly lost interest in trying it out. But, last week in the midst of playing my own personal game of 'how long can I live off my supplies without having to go to the grocery store', I decided to make it.*

I'd say generally speaking it's a neutral food. It seems to take on whatever you make with it - much like a rice or a couscous - as opposed to being the main show on the plate. It also seems to be a cross between say rice and grits and caviar. Fat like rice, round like grits, and an interesting pop like caviar on the side of sushi. I also tried it heated up for breakfast with a little almond milk and brown sugar type sprinkles.

But, as the pondering continued I gave myself a little mental pat on the back that in my experimentation in the kitchen I was inadvertently (or maybe purposely) being a healthier person.

* I made it a week without buying anything new, which I think speaks to the freaking ridiculous amount of crap we've built up in the house.

Done

"I am not perfect and have never claimed to be. I did the best I could to raise you with self esteem, pride in your accomplishments and the strength to accomplish all your dreams. Yes, I made mistakes. We all do. Of course you will never have to learn that as you are too selfish to ever have children of your own.


If you cannot respect me for who I am, then so be it, but, do not go out of your way any longer to spew your hatred to others and don't bother trying to prove your hatred to me, I am so fully aware of it you have no idea.


I am sorry I failed you and wish you only the best.
Mom"
 
Here's my interpretation of the small excerpt from my mother's response to my email that I hoped she had a nice day on that day that was Mother's Day.
 
Woh is me, woh is me. I was a great mom and have no responsibility for this unexpected dislike of me.
You're to selfish to have children so you don't know how hard my job was.
If you can't love me for being someone who's not only dependant on the state for income and someone who has figured out all the loopholes to screw the system but who writes these hateful emails when you don't behave according to my internal script or don't lend me money when I haven't gotten enough from the state, than fine. I'll just eat worms.
Woh is me, woh is me.
 
Mom
 
To selfish to have children, huh? Really, a big part of it is I don't want to continue to lineage of the poor parenting that I experienced. I have had no good role models of what parenting looks like, and I want no part in causing the pain and mental anguish that has been my childhood and adulthood of trying to please a mother that was INSANE. Well, except PC but I figure he has free will to leave if I get too out of control.
 
So, I thought I was done before. But now I really am. I responded only that she should no longer send emails or calls as I will no longer accept the abuse. Which, I might add, went over REALLY well. But instead of doing a point by point recap of how she was insane, I reiterated that I was no longer accepting emails or phone calls. Because I am done accepting the abuse. Because that is what it has been. Mental abuse. 
 
I have no mother. I have no responsibility for her health, well being, or whatever the fuck else she does with her final years.
 
Angry? Yes. In anguish that it came to this? Most definitely.
 

How often can you wonder if you're really happy, and it still be normal? And, does having that thought mean you're not happy? Should you just know you're happy? And if you determine you're not happy, how does one determine if it's situational unhappy or forever unhappy? By situational, I mean that the unhappy could be just transient or could be strongly effected by external variables that you may not be consciously aware of.

You can put a bow on it

I had a friend confide in me last night about what she thinks is 'a little crush'. Someone she describes as a good friend, who makes her laugh and whom she can lean on, and whom she might have seen a picture his, um, apparatus because he sent it to her on a bet. Someone she talks to more than daily, sees quite regularly, and actually took it pretty hard when she found out he has a girlfriend of convenience in his hometown.

Which is all fine and dandy, except she's married. And, not to the crush.

I tried very hard to listen without judgement, to provide advice as to why this might be happening, and to be the friend she clearly needs to talk this all through. But, the more I listen, the more I know she's rationalizing and I worry that I'm giving her the feeling of approval (as opposed to neutrality).

I know I don't know what's going on in her marriage. From the outside they've always been amazing together.

And, I'm not judging. I know that sometimes relationships don't work. I believe that sometime you can accidentally fall in love. I think that sometimes you just know.

But in this case I think she's playing with fire.

You can dress it up and put a bow on it, but if you can't tell your husband about it and have to start implementing passwords, it's cheating.

Home alone and loving it

I'm at day three of being a single mom*. And, I think I'm doing quite well. Fighting has been minimal and one earned a little ice cream treat yesterday after helping me garden in the yard.

And, to be honest, I think I've realized tonight that I have exited the honeymoon stage of cohabitation.

A few months ago I remember talking to women who said they love business travel (them or him) because you get peace and quiet. Naive Abbey thought (or said), I can hardly get to sleep when he's not in bed next to me. Well, PC cured me of this bed thing recently. He's taken up video games that take him into the wee hours that are no longer seen by me who has to get up early and semi-function at work.

 The positive note, however, is I can sleep just fine if he decides not to come to bed.

But, I digress.

So today, at day three of being purely responsible for the care and welfare of our three dependents I can say: man, there's just something nice about making a quick meal of left overs, plopping down at the kitchen table to read email, FB, and blogs without the noise of one of the thousand sci-fi shows in the background, and knowing that in about 20 minutes I'm climbing into bed and I may get some magazine reading in before passing out.

I just have to make sure everyone has food and one of them has been walked.

Though, I am beginning to miss him. At least in a theoretical way so far.

Tomorrow, the kids and I will consider making a welcome home banner.

*Mom to two cats and a dog.

UHLB

One thing I love about gardening is that I can just garden - the thoughts that pop up while pruning, digging holes, and weeding tend to be the most productive because they're unforced.

Today, however, it wasn't working.

Today, as we all know, was mother's day. And, the most snarky of thoughts that popped into my head was that I didn't see anyone on FB complaining it was another Hallmark holiday like they did about Valentine's Day. But, I suppose that's because most people like their mother's at least. 

I've come to accept that I do not. My niceties with my mother are generally motivated by preventing nasty emails or voice mails or out of guilt that she has no other children or family that cares. And, I suppose because, as I've been been reminded several times, "Well, she did give birth to you."

Let's consider that for a moment.

How long does she get credit for that exactly? Because really, comparatively speaking, even if she spent 10 hours in labor 33 years ago, I've spent the last 8 years in therapy trying to undo what she's done in my head.

The fact that she gets to behave like a child and block my emails when she's said some mean things. That she gets to make me feel guilty for having a relationship with her family, but then says I treat her family with disregard on holidays (most recently, Easter). That I have to feel guilty for having a relationship with my father's family, and PC's family for that matter.

And that even in my complete disgust, I spent my day trying to forget that I was being "an ungrateful, hateful, little bitch" because I was refusing to call or email her...of which either would have been met with reminders of how she is spending the day alone...and ruined a perfectly gorgeous day in the sun playing with my plants.

You don't want to know how many times that phrase has been uttered to me: An ungrateful, hateful, little bitch.

I guess I just want to know how long I need to be grateful, when there's just so much that I've had to tolerate.

Those eggs must be laid by golden chickens

Admittedly, I was beyond irritated when my breakfast bill for egg whites, mushrooms, and a cup of fruit came out to $10 this morning. Because apparently the fruit was on the 'buffet' and by consuming the fruit, I have partaken of the buffet - which is $10 - I'm beign charged the full price.

Seriously. And, it was beyond my waitress' comprehension of how to adjust my bill in any way to bring the price down.

Soultion?

Walmart was next door. Fridge in my room for the week.

Oatmeal, yogurt, 2 meals, and a 6 pack of soda - only $12. I win.

Oh, and some constructive feedback to the person checking me out later this week.

Having just stayed at the same chain for a recent conference in which I was beyooond disgusted with the hospitality, I can say: I'd rather stay at a Best Western over a Hilton ANYDAY.

Side bonus - staying within the diet at least for breakfast.